


Machete

by feministfangirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, Season/Series 07, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feministfangirl/pseuds/feministfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during S7. Xander gets really distracted during a zombie apocalypse. We've all been there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Machete

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this many years ago. I impulse decided to edit and post it. I think of it as a season 7 filler episode we didn't get to see, but with slash.
> 
> Mild descriptions of zombies, corpses, violence and a teeny bit of gore to follow. If you can't watch the Walking Dead for gore, you probably should skip this one.

“...Shit.”

When Xander burst out of the kitchen to see what the commotion had been, he really hadn’t been expecting this. A swarm of undead was assaulting Slayer central, shattering windows and splintering doors. The untended crowd surged forward, an unending undead undulation. They weren’t the usual Sunnydale undead; these corpses could come in uninvited. The Slayer and her potentials were there in an instant, defending their home, but the onslaught fractured the idea of the Summers house as a safe zone. That, combined with the fact that the horde was comprised primarily of former Sunnydale inhabitants, made for a horrifying battle. The consolation prize was that a frightened Slayer was a force to be reckoned with.

Xander should have been more concerned about his own safety, what with not having superpowers or the potential to gain them anytime soon, but he was too busy watching Giles. While Xander struggled not to be bitten by a particularly persistent former ninth grader, the ex-librarian’s surprisingly muscular arms worked with deadly precision. Giles separated zombie head from zombie body with the careful swing of a long, wide blade. He wasn’t wearing a shirt; he’d been catching a few well-deserved hours of sleep when the invasion had begun. He looked no less impressive dressed only in pyjama pants. With the same simple strength, Giles recoiled to strike again. Xander could almost smell the sweat rolling down his bare chest. Giles-sweat. He’d never been attracted to sweat before. This _was_ the first time he’d seen Giles move without a shirt on; he’d seen him in varying degrees of undress over the years. But it had always been while Giles was incapacitated: injured, tortured or knocked out. There was even that one time that he had worked up what little courage he could muster to talk to Giles about the unhealthy obsession that had been building since… well, since the other man returned from England. Xander spent ten minutes working up the nerve to knock on the door to the bedroom they’d both been sharing with Andrew, only to find that Giles had passed out on top of the covers with only a towel wrapped around his waist. This semi-nude battle scene was as good as that view had been. Perhaps better, because Xander could see every single muscle in Giles’ upper body work its magic. It… probably would have been better without the zombies.

After a lifetime of Hellmouth survival, it was instinct more than anything that kept Xander from being eaten alive. Well, that and the fact that Buffy was only two feet to his left, killing anything without a pulse. For every corpse that Xander managed to dismember enough to stop trying to eat him, he stole another lingering look at Giles. Giles, who had a perimeter of headless, unmoving corpses around him so thick that was beginning to hinder the continued assault even though more undead were coming in through the large window that Xander had _just_ finished replacing the day before.

It would save a lot of money and valuable time if they just covered the hole in the living room window with plastic, considering how often Xander had to repair it. He wondered absently if Giles would help him repair it again, preferably while shirtless, when they got through this. His thoughts went so absent that the next thing he knew, he was trying to pry mossy, decaying hands from the collar of his shirt and keep his face away from the undead maw, open in a horrific facsimile of a kiss. He only had a second of real terror before the creature’s head was forcefully separated from its shoulders, and the head fell, long grey hair tangling in its maw as it tumbled away and went still.

Giles reached down and hauled Xander up onto his feet. Xander was dazed, both from the close call and the feel of Giles’ arm under his hand. It seemed much more meaningful will all that bare skin attached to it. The two men locked eyes for only a moment, but Giles seemed to see what he wanted on Xander’s face and gave him a nod, before he turned, using his trusty machete to seek out his next target.

Standing in the temporary safe zone Giles’ competence had afforded him, Xander wished he were that machete, clenched tightly and purposefully in the watcher’s hand. At that moment, he was glad everyone was occupied by the battle. It would be hard to explain why he had an erection during a zombie apocalypse.


End file.
